


Picture Perfect

by Cinaed



Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [26]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sabrina the Teenage Witch Fusion, Background Het, Birthday Party, Birthday Presents, Gen, Magic, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 00:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21006545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: As impossible as it seems, it's been a whole year within the show since the pilot episode. In this episode, Carolina and Church have a party, get some presents, and enjoy some cake.





	Picture Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, it's been a whole year in the canon of the show and almost one year (and almost 200,000 words) since I started this AU! 
> 
> Just wanted to give a shout-out to everyone who's been enjoying this self-indulgent and totally fun AU with me. :D I hope you enjoy the rest of the ride!
> 
> Thanks goes out as always to Aryashi for looking this over and making suggestions.

“I’m so ready for your birthday,” Niner declares.

Carolina, about to eat the salad she packed for lunch, pauses. She studies Niner’s expression. Niner’s smile reminds her of Grey’s, in that it promises trouble. “It’ll be fun,” she says, and it comes a little more skeptical than she intends.

Wash must sense it too because he rolls his eyes and mutters, “Great, I’m gonna end up with two grounded friends and no one to hang out with.”

Connie stares at him from across the table, her eyebrows raised.

Wash notices her look. He shrugs. “Hey, you’re good company! ...When you’re not busy with Connor. Which is always.”

“You seriously need to get over this stupid rivalry,” Connie tells him. “No one will care about high school sports in five years.”

Caboose shakes his head. “That’s not what TV and movies say. This is the best time of our lives!”

“Ugh, I hope not,” Church mutters. He’s messing with his carton of chocolate milk, failing to get it open and also equally refusing to admit he needs help. He drops the carton as Caboose gasps loudly.

“CHURCH! I FORGOT YOUR BIRTHDAY!”

It’s a distraught wail that has heads turning all over the cafeteria. Carolina spies a familiar frown as Mr. Simmons stares in their direction and heads towards their table, but then she’s distracted by the wobble in Caboose’s voice as he says, “I forgot your birthday, I’m a bad friend--”

“Caboose, you didn’t forget anything,” Church says, looking alarmed. “My birthday’s, uh, the 22nd.” His mouth twists a little as he says it.

Tucker says, "Yeah, calm down, Caboose." Then his voice changes. "...Wait. Church! You're turning eighteen? Uh, please tell me you secretly got your learner's so we...." His voice changes again as Church gives him a blank look. "Uh, you're turning sixteen?"

"No," Church says. His eyes widen. "I mean, uh, yeah--"

For a second Carolina doesn’t get it. Then she sees the sympathetic wince on Wash’s face, the way Niner’s eyes narrow, how Mr. Simmons stares between her and Church and then turns away quickly while his face and the back of his neck flush an uncomfortable red.

Her stomach twists. Her friends think her dad cheated on her mom. She resists the urge to kick Church.

Her fury must show, because Church slouches on the bench. He looks like he’s contemplating erasing everyone’s memories of the past five minutes or something equally drastic. He gives her a silent, apologetic look and says, “Uh, yeah, I’m turning sixteen. Guess I’m so smart I skipped a grade. You guys caught me.”

Church is such a bad liar, Carolina thinks, for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Dude,” Tucker says, halfway between horrified and impressed. “Your dad--”

Carolina kicks Tucker instead. He cuts himself off with a pained yelp.

Caboose blinks. “Oh! You’re twins! Rachel and Shiloh are twins too! Oh, but that means your birthday--”

“They’re not twins, Caboose,” Tucker says. He glances in Church’s direction, who just scowls and slouches harder. He drops his voice to an awkward whisper. “I’ll, uh, explain later.”

Carolina grits her teeth. She hates that everyone now thinks her dad is a cheater. He might have screwed up a lot over the last year, but there are some things that are fundamental truths, and one is that her dad would never hurt her mom like that.

Caboose looks puzzled, but nods. He frowns in Church’s direction. He clearly hasn’t figured it out, but he can see Church isn’t happy. He bites his lip and says, “So does that mean Monday’s party is for you and Carolina?”

“No,” Church says immediately. “It’s her birthday.”

“Yeah, and what about you?” Tucker says, looking a little annoyed. “Do Alaskans not believe in presents? Or telling their friends when they were born? ...Is it a weird Amish thing?”

“I’m not Amish, Tucker,” Church says with a familiar exasperated bite to his voice. “And uh….” His gaze darts over to Carolina, who doesn’t know what to say about the party. He grimaces. “I wasn’t gonna have a party--”

“Dude,” Tucker protests, but it’s lost underneath Caboose’s loud, “It’s your _birthday_! You have to have a party!”

This conversation is going to keep going, Carolina realizes. It’s going to take over the whole lunch period, maybe even the whole day, and Carolina is going to have to listen to everyone talk around the fact that they think Church is from an affair.

“Just bring his presents when you come over,” she says. She ignores Church’s surprised expression, focusing on her salad. She stabs at a tomato so hard it bounces and almost hits York in the eye as he walks by. She sets her fork down, her appetite gone.

“Oh, good,” Caboose says, sounding relieved. The relief doesn’t last. His brow creases. A worried look crosses his face. A second later he stands up and says, “....I have to go....do something now. Not, um, think about presents....or ask anyone for advice or anything.... Bye!”

York drops down into the chair Caboose just gave up. He rubs at the faint mark under his eye and smiles cheerfully. “What’d I miss?”

Awkward silence ensues.

* * *

Well, that explains a lot, is Simmons’ first thought. His second thought is that this is none of his business and he needs to walk away right now. His third thought, as he flees, is to wonder about Grif’s birthday. They’ve been roommates for almost a year and a half! How has it never come up?

He focuses on that, instead of the uncomfortable relationship between Church and his dad. Hearing about Church’s birthday and doing the very simple math, it’s like finishing an equation. No wonder Church is resentful.

“When’s your birthday?” Simmons blurts out the second he’s in his apartment that afternoon. He feels heat creep into his face as Grif opens one eye and blinks at him. He probably should’ve led up to the question.

“Huh?”

Simmons spends a second wondering if he should pretend he didn’t ask. But curiosity pricks at him, and he repeats, “When’s your birthday?”

Both eyes open at that. “What’s with the twenty questions?” Grif asks warily. “If you’re trying to break into my bank account, joke’s on you. I’m broke.”

“I’m not trying--” A twitch of Grif’s whiskers betrays his amusement. Simmons huffs. “Very funny. It’s just that I realized we didn’t do birthdays last year.”

“Yeah, witches don’t do birthdays,” Grif says breezily.

Simmons narrows his eyes. Grif gives him a guileless look. “That’s interesting, because next Monday is Carolina’s birthday, and she’s definitely having a party.”

“Well, she’s half-mortal--”

“Grif! Why are you making it weird?” Simmons complains.

“Birthdays are dumb,” Grif complains. He looks annoyed, but Simmons can’t tell if it’s because he was caught in a lie or because he’s uncomfortable over the questions. He licks the tip of his nose and adds, “Besides, if you don’t know my birthday, you can just guess.”

Simmons should be annoyed too, but the idea of him buying birthday cake on random days just in case he guesses the right date is actually kind of funny. He shakes his head. “I’m not throwing you random parties, Grif.”

“Eh, worth a shot,” Grif says. “What’s _your_ birthday?”

Simmons opens his mouth to answer and then snaps it shut. He shakes his head, amused and irritated in equal measure. “Uh, I’m not telling you until I know your birthday. Stalemate.”

“Nerd,” Grif mutters.

Simmons remembers Doctor Church’s cool voice from the night before. “Oh right, but Carolina and Church’s birthdays mean that Doctor Church will be busy on Monday and Tuesday, so--”

Grif’s ears perk up. “Movie and pizza?”

Simmons stares. He didn’t even consider that. In the second that it takes him to get over his surprise, he sees Grif register it, his ears going flat against his head and his mismatched eyes narrowing. Simmons scratches at his jaw. “Uh, well, Doctor Church expects me to have some results for him, so I was going to go back to the ley line and--”

“Dude. the ley line isn’t gonna disappear just because you didn’t use it for a few days.”

“I mean, probably not,” Simmons agrees. “But--”

“So take a break,” Grif says. He fixes Simmons with a look and adds, sarcasm sharpening the words, “Have one night where you don’t have to take a nap in your car.”

Simmons bristles, an embarrassed heat creeping into his face. He knows he shouldn’t have mentioned needing to rest after the experiments. Grif keeps acting like it’s a big deal, like Grif doesn’t spend eighty percent of his time taking naps. “It’s fine! I’m building up my endurance, I’m gonna be a little tired!”

“Right,” Grif says sourly. He gives Simmons a long look and then flops back onto the cushion, putting a paw over his face. He looks asleep already, but his twitching tail betrays him. “Have fun with that.”

Simmons frowns down at him. He almost says something, frustration a hard lump in his throat, but he goes to the kitchen instead. He’ll cook one of the frozen pizzas. Maybe Grif will get less weird after food.

When he puts the plate of steaming pizza slices next to Grif, though, Grif just makes a noise of acknowledgement. The awkward silence resumes.

Simmons half-burns his fingers picking his slice apart into strips. He tries to think of something to say. Grif likes gossip even if he won’t admit it. Simmons feels only a small pang of guilt as he drums his now greasy fingers against the edge of his plate and says, “Um, so, interesting thing I learned today. Apparently Church is only two days younger than Carolina.”

Grif snorts.

Simmons frowns at him. He was expecting a bigger reaction. “You get what that means, right? It means Church is, uh, illegitimate, and uh, well. That probably explains a lot.” He sighs. “It’s going to make seeing Doctor Church tonight a little awkward--”

“Simmons? I seriously don’t care about Church family crap.”

“Oh,” Simmons says, taken aback by the flatness in Grif’s voice. “Uh. Okay.” He looks down and realizes he’s pulled his slice into so many pieces that it doesn’t even resemble a pizza anymore. He eats it anyway, wondering if an invitation to come to the woods with him on Monday would make things better or worse.

Probably worse, he decides, and finishes his dinner in silence.

* * *

At first, Carolina’s birthday party isn’t bad. There’s definitely an undercurrent of awkwardness as everyone divides their presents into two piles, but Grey has magicked up enough food to feed an army, or at least eight teenagers. It turns out that it’s hard to talk about the elephant in the room with a full mouth.

Then, of course, Kimball brings out the cake. There are candles in the shape of the number 17 on it, already lit.

Grey claps her hands. “Time to sing happy birthday!” she declares, grinning from ear to ear.

“Uh, for both of them?” someone asks. Carolina thinks it’s Tucker.

Carolina glances towards Church as Grey giggles.

Church looks uncomfortable. “We could, uh, sing it twice?”

“Oh no, I think we should celebrate both of you at the same time!” Grey says, ignoring the warning look Kimball sends in her direction. She gestures at Carolina and Church. “Come on, you’ll need to get closer than that to blow out the candles!”

Carolina steps up to the cake, aware of Church sidling awkwardly over as well.

He jams his hands into his pockets and stares down at the cake, chewing on his lower lip for a second. He doesn’t look as excited about the cake as she thought he would, or the free presents, or anything. He mutters, “Why’s the cake purple? It’s not your birthday, Grey.”

Grey just laughs.

Carolina nudges him. “You could look happier about cake.”

Church blinks. He looks down at the cake, as though he’s re-evaluating. “Right.” His smile seems forced around the edges, but at least he’s smiling.

The birthday song doesn’t improve even when they’re singing for you and despite the genuine happiness Caboose injects into the words. Carolina sings along, putting on a smile of her own as she meets Wash’s eyes across the cake. When it’s over, she breathes a silent sigh of relief.

“Make a wish,” Kimball says, giving them both a small smile.

"Don't say it out loud or it won't come true!" Caboose warns.

Church snorts. His smile turns more genuine. “Thanks, Caboose,” he says dryly.

Together, they blow out the candles.

Carolina has a second to try and figure out her wish, and then the candles relight. For a second Carolina’s heart skips a beat, and she tries to glare at Grey with just her eyes. This is Wash’s fake baby all over again--

“Man, I hate trick candles,” Wash mutters.

Right. Trick candles. Not magic at all.

“Does this mean Church gets _two_ wishes?” Caboose asks excitedly.

Church, in the middle of trying to blow out the candles again, pauses. “Oh. Trick candles,” he mutters, low enough that probably only Carolina catches it, and then raises his voice. “Uh, yeah, I definitely get two wishes. Good point, Caboose.”

Carolina studies the candles. Maybe you have to extinguish them a different way? She reaches out and tries to pinch one of the flames out between her fingertips. It works for about a second, and then the candle relights.

“It’ll keep going until we get some water,” Kimball says, amused. She plucks the candles out of the cake, leaving small gaps in the frosting, and heads towards the kitchen.

Meanwhile Grey brandishes a knife. “And now to cut the cake!”

Church brightens at the promise of cake.

Carolina, who’s had the sickeningly sweet frosting of other birthday cakes before, doesn’t. She watches Grey cut into the cake with a slightly worrying speed, and accepts her slice with a quiet thank-you. When Carolina tries a bite, she blinks. It’s not as sweet as usual.

“We went with a different frosting,” Grey explains, seeing her surprise.

“Oh,” Carolina says, startled but pleased.

“And next is presents, right?” Niner asks once they’ve all finished their second helping of cake. There’s a hint of smugness to her smile. She's too busy being smug to notice the smear of purple on her cheek.

Wash and Carolina meet each other’s eyes. They come to a silent agreement that they have to see how long it takes Niner to realize she’s got frosting on her face. Carolina has her fingers crossed for the rest of the night.

“Next is presents,” Kimball confirms. She grins towards Carolina. “Carolina?”

Carolina eyes the small pile of gifts. She goes for the biggest one first. It’s from Niner and Wash, who both grin expectantly as she carefully peels away the wrapping paper, revealing a box. She pulls off the top and smiles. It’s a new pair of running shoes. She lifts one out of the box, studying the shape of it. She should’ve known they’d find a shoe that looks sturdy but feels lightweight enough to handle long-distance running.

“I can’t wait to break them in,” she says. “Thanks.”

“Pretty sure Wash just wanted to give you an edge in track this year, but you’re welcome,” Niner says, smirking and ignoring Wash’s rolled eyes.

Connie’s present is a water bottle, but one with a fancy grip and a clasp so she can attach it to her backpack. Carolina grins and holds it up. “Thanks,” she says. “Though I’m starting to sense a theme.”

York laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Uh, I guess mine kind of goes with the theme? Maybe.”

Carolina blinks and looks at the table. She almost misses the small box with a miniature bow. Curious, she opens it. She takes out the long pale blue ribbon. It’s smooth except for the delicate white stitching and occasional tiny fake pearl. It’s really pretty.

“For, uh, your hair,” York says. “To keep it out of your face-- I mean, duh. I almost went with green, but you wear more blue so--”

Carolina smiles up at him. He doesn’t finish his sentence, like he lost his train of thought, so she folds the ribbon carefully, not wanting to tangle it. Then she puts it back into its box. “I’ll wear it for my first race for good luck. Thanks, York.”

York smiles back. “You’re, uh, welcome.”

“Time for Church’s presents!” Tucker declares. He follows this up with a grin and a, “You’re welcome.”

Church looks uncomfortable as everyone turns towards him. “Sort of jumping the gun, Tucker. Maybe I’ll hate your present.”

“You won’t,” Tucker says, looking as smug as Niner.

The smugness only grows when Church unwraps his present. Carolina doesn’t recognize the weirdly distorted faces, but judging by the way Church’s eyes light up it’s a poster for one of those grunge bands he loves. “Superunknown,” he says. “Okay, it’s not bad.”

Tucker might actually combust from smugness. “Had to get you something for your wall, dude. Your room’s sad.”

“Thanks,” Church says sarcastically. Then he turns towards Caboose, picking up the last present. It looks the size of a card. He looks torn between anticipation and wariness as he holds it up, like he’s worried it’s going to explode or something. “So--”

“Tucker wouldn’t let me get you a bouncy house!” Caboose says. His voice is louder than usual. As Church blinks, Carolina looks at Caboose. Upon close inspection, he looks nervous, twisting his hands into the hem of his shirt. “And then Wash said I couldn’t get you a dog. Or a pony. And then Ms. Kimball said you probably wouldn’t use a bike. And I kept thinking about what you’d want, but I--”

Church opens the envelope. “It’s a card,” he says slowly.

“Faith said I make really good cards, and Julia said handmade stuff is better than a bouncy house, so I made one.” Caboose frowns, his gaze fixed on Church’s blank expression. “Um, if you don’t like it, I can get you a better present….” He trails off as Church opens the card.

Glitter clings to Church’s fingers when it doesn’t fall off onto his shoes.

Carolina gives into her curiosity and allows herself a quick glance over Church’s shoulder. She half-expected to find just a single _Happy Birthday, Church! Love, Caboose _filling up the entire inside in enormous letters, but instead Caboose has written in a small, cramped scrawl and covered the inside of the card with words.

“Do you like it?” Caboose asks when Church just stares at the card.

“Should’ve just chipped in for the poster, Caboose,” Tucker mutters.

Church’s expression is still blank, but Carolina is close enough that she can see his jaw clench. For a second she misreads it as anger.

Then he says, “It’s, uh.” He clamps his mouth shut at the sound of his own voice, thick and wobbly, but it's too late. He's not angry at all, Carolina realizes. He coughs and turns the card over. There’s more writing on the back. He snorts, and mumbles, his voice still unsteady with a trace of familiar sarcasm, “It's good. But, um-- glitter glue? Seriously Caboo--”

Caboose dives in for a hug.

Church is stiff in the embrace, his arms dangling awkwardly at his sides. His cheek is pressed against Caboose’s shoulder, his glasses askew. He stays stiff for another second. Then Carolina sees the instant he gives into the hug: his shoulders loosen and his entire body seems to melt into Caboose’s grip. He takes a deep, slightly shaky breath.

Another second passes, and then another. Caboose blinks down, pleased but confused, probably because usually Church would’ve shoved him away at this point.

Church must sense Caboose’s puzzled look, because tension returns to his shoulders. He reaches out and pats at Caboose’s arm, muttering, “Okay. Yeah. Uh.” When he starts squirming a little, Carolina can see the embarrassed flush on the back of his neck.

Caboose obediently lets go. He smiles, but there’s a tentativeness to it. “Happy birthday, Church!” His eyes flit towards Carolina and he adds hastily, “Oh, happy birthday, Carolina!”

“Thanks, Caboose,” Carolina says, a little distracted watching Church fumble with the letter as he tries to slide it back into the envelope. From the corner of her eye she sees Grey watching Church as well. There’s a speculative gleam in her eyes.

Church looks flustered. He sets his jaw and half-glares, like he thinks someone’s going to tease him about the hug.

“I guess handmade _is_ better,” Carolina says before anyone can say anything. She starts to give everyone a warning look, and then stops, catching sight of Niner with her hand on the front door knob and her other hand holding a suspicious bag. She remembers Niner’s earlier excitement and dangerous smile. She never actually figured out what Niner had planned....

Niner sidles out the door as Wash laughs just a little too loudly and says, “Yeah. Maybe we should all make handmade cards next time.” One look at his expression and Carolina knows he’s in on whatever Niner’s doing.

Caboose looks excited. “Oh, we should! I can help.”

Connie leans towards Carolina and Church and whispers, “I’ll distract Dr. Grey and Ms. Kimball. Go outside and enjoy the show.”

Church gives her a suspicious look. “What show?”

Carolina rolls her eyes and takes his arm. “Come on.”

When they get outside, Niner spins to face them. She relaxes when she realizes it’s them. She brandishes some sticks in their direction. “Who’s in the mood for slightly illegal birthday fireworks?”

“_Slightly_ illegal?” Church repeats, but he’s starting to grin.

“Oh yeah,” York says behind them. “Not sure if it’s worse than your B & E, though.” Carolina glances over her shoulder towards the door in time to see York pull a lighter from his pocket and toss it towards Niner.

She catches it with a grin and a thank-you. Then she starts passing the fireworks out as Tucker and Caboose sneak outside to join them.

Carolina studies hers curiously. It doesn’t look like it’ll do anything impressive.

“Okay, hold the sparkler away from you,” Niner says. The streetlamps illuminate her amused look. “We don’t want to have to explain to Grey or Kimball why you burned your eyebrows off.”

Church squints, like he’s not sure she’s serious, but holds it out.

Niner flicks the lighter, and the whole group as one sticks their sparklers into the small flame and then scrambles backwards as the fireworks light.

The sparklers are brighter and louder than Carolina expects. The crackling, hissing sound fills the air. She goes half-blind as the fireworks spark and flash in front of her eyes. When the sparkler starts to eat itself, edging too close to her fingertips, she drops it on the pavement and blinks away spots as the sparkler burns itself out.

As the last sparkler fizzes into silence, a voice says behind everyone, “I believe the term teenagers use now is busted.”

Grey and Kimball are standing in the doorway, arms crossed. Kimball’s making a small attempt at looking firm, but Grey just looks amused. Behind them, Connie catches Carolina’s eyes and shrugs.

Niner looks guilty for a second, and then puts on a winning grin. “C’mon. It’s their birthday.”

“Hand them over,” Kimball says with an outstretched hand.

Grey laughs. She tilts her head to the side and fixes Niner with an amused but sharp look. “It being their birthday means that we won’t tell your parents or ask where exactly you acquired these fireworks. But you won’t keep the rest.”

“...Deal,” Niner says, giving up the bag of leftover sparklers.

Kimball glances at her watch. “And on that note, it is a school night,” she says. Her lips twitch at the chorus of groans.

Tucker looks at his watch too. He makes a face. “Yeah, my mom’s picking me and Caboose up in like ten minutes.”

At that admission, everyone starts drifting inside.

As she gets to the door, Niner turns and tosses York his lighter.

Kimball eyes it like she thinks she should probably confiscate that too.

York hastily tucks the lighter away. It’s his turn to try on a winning smile of his own. “Thank you for ungrounding Carolina and Church for the night, Ms. Kimball, Dr. Grey.”

“Oh, we’re their guardians, not monsters,” Grey says with a giggle.

“Nice job with the distraction,” Tucker says to Connie.

She rolls her eyes. “Hard to distract anyone when you and Caboose stampede out the door.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tucker says.

It’s still warm outside. Carolina lingers on the front steps. She can smell the smoke from the burnt out sparklers, feel the breeze on her face. She looks up at the sky. The light from the streetlamps makes it hard to pick out constellations, but she still tries for a minute. Her mom is probably looking at different constellations, wherever she is.

One more year, Carolina thinks. One more year and she can see her mom again. It still feels like an eternity.

“You’re not allowed to brood on your birthday,” Wash says. “Pretty sure that’s a rule.”

Carolina doesn’t jump. She takes a second to rearrange her expression into something less frustrated. Then she turns to face him. She lets him get a good look at her raised eyebrows. “It’s my birthday, so I’m pretty sure I can do what I want. But I wasn’t brooding.”

“Uh huh,” Wash says. He’s smiling a little, but there’s also a question in his eyes. She recognizes the look. He’s been wearing it off and on since that lunch fiasco. It’s a silent question of _Want to talk about it? _

The thing is, she’s tempted. It would be a relief to talk to someone other than Church about her parents, someone without their own complicated history and who understands a few things about being angry with their dads. Wash hasn’t said much, but the few times he’s mentioned his dad it’s clear that the guy is a jerk. But the idea of editing all her problems into something she can actually tell him just makes her feel tired and even more frustrated. It’s easier to pretend not to understand his look.

When she doesn’t say anything, the moment passes. He says, still smiling, “So I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting Caboose to make Church cry.”

“He didn’t cry,” Carolina corrects him. “He _almost_ cried.”

“The magic of homemade cards,” Wash says, mock-solemn.

Headlights spill over them, and Wash squints before he raises his hand to wave. “Hey, Niner, your dad’s here!” he calls over his shoulder into the house. Then he looks at Carolina again. He grins.

“Happy birthday, Carolina.”

* * *

“So,” Church says once the last of their friends are gone. He draws out the word with a smirk. “Where’s my present? You were making plans before your crappy job, so I’m expecting something awesome.”

Carolina’s about to tease him for being greedy. Then his gaze flicks up towards the clock. He doesn’t grimace, but tension gathers at the corners of his mouth and his smirk fades a little. Right. Her dad’s coming for a short visit soon.

“It’s in my room,” she says instead. “I couldn’t bring it out in front of our friends.”

“Why?” Church asks curiously, following her upstairs.

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise,” Carolina says.

Church rolls his eyes, but doesn’t push. When they get to her room, he makes a beeline for the wrapped present. For a second he just looks down at it. She can see a couple guesses for what it is work their way across his expression. Then he grabs it. He practically shreds the wrapping paper.

Carolina swallows down a laugh as paper goes flying.

“Oh,” Church says, blinking at the Nintendo system.

“It’s used. I got it off one of York’s friends cheap because it was glitchy, but uh, when I tried to fix it--” Carolina waves her finger in a universal ‘I did magic’ gesture. “--the spell sort of worked.”

Church gives her a look. “Sort of?”

Carolina shrugs. Embarrassment warms the back of her neck. “It might have opinions on how well you play now. Like, verbal opinions.”

Church snorts. “Great. ‘Cause I’m amazing at videos. Looking forward to the insults.” Then his amusement fades. He sets the console down and fiddles with his glasses. “Uh. Thanks. It’s really cool.”

“Glad you like it,” Carolina says, proud that she’s managed a good gift. She grins at him. “I mean, it’s not a handmade birthday card but--”

“Shut up,” Church says. He flushes. Then he glances at his present again. He looks a weird mixture of smug and nervous, licking his lips. “Okay, uh. Your present. Stay right here. I’ll go get the ingredients.”

“The ingredients?”

Church ignores the question. He leaves and returns a minute later with a small cauldron and a small box. He looks even more nervous than before. “Okay. Just, uh. Give me a minute to set it up.”

“Okay,” Carolina says slowly.

It’s her turn to be curious as Church sets up the cauldron on her desk. The small box is apparently full of spices, because he starts dumping them into the cauldron, muttering, “First rosemary, then tammeric, bacopa, gotu kola…. Crap, can’t forget the sage….” Finally he steps back. He points his finger. Blue flame sparks off his fingertip and lands inside the cauldron. The flame devours the ingredients, filling the room with a blue smoke that smells of a strange spice blend.

Carolina wrinkles her nose and tries not to sneeze.

Church grins at her, a wide, anxious smile. “Yeah, so. Just start thinking of one of your favorite memories of time with your parents, okay? And I mean, think really, really hard.”

Carolina has questions, but when she starts to speak, he gestures impatiently at her. “Come on, Carolina.”

She closes her eyes and searches through her memories. She finds herself thinking of constellations. Her parents had both taught her astronomy, her dad the science of the stars and her mom the myths behind them. She remembers being ten, wrapped up in one of her mom’s old military jackets, staring up at a star-filled sky as her parents argued on how to set up the telescope.

“Yeah, perfect,” Church says. “Hold on to that memory.” There’s another flash of blue, bright enough that she sees it against the back of her eyelids.

“A picture's worth a thousand words, and memories are the same.

So take that precious moment and save it in this frame.”

Carolina opens her eyes at the faint thud that follows the spell. There’s a framed photo on the wall that wasn’t there five minutes ago. She stares at the familiar jacket, at her mom caught mid-laugh, at her dad frozen in place gesturing towards the telescope.

Her throat gets tight. The photograph blurs in front of her eyes.

Church sounds pleased with himself. “Okay, the instructions said we could do three with the amount of stuff I got, so-- uh. Carolina?”

She doesn’t trust her voice. She blinks a couple times and tries to smile in his direction.

His face is just smudges of color, but she can hear the flustered note to his voice as he mutters, “Uh, just. Uh. I guess focus on the next memory? Just nod when you’re ready, and, uh, I’ll repeat the spell.”

Carolina closes her eyes again. This time she thinks about her parents’ wedding anniversary. Her father had surprised her mom with tickets to a soccer game for the local amateur league and then a reservation at a local restaurant undamaged by the recent earthquake. Her mom had let Carolina braid her hair, a concession for the special occasion, and then her parents had left arm in arm.

When she nods, Church recites the spell. This time she doesn’t look. Instead she focuses on the last memory.

A last memory for one of the last days before Grey and Kimball brought her to Westbridge. Her mom had been up late checking on supplies, but had ordered her dad to wake her up for breakfast. She half-dozed her way through the meal, and Carolina wondered at the time why she insisted on getting up for breakfast when she clearly needed sleep. Now Carolina thinks she understands. Her mom had propped her chin in her hand and watched them both, half-awake but still focused, her gaze lingering as her dad quizzed her on her schoolwork and Carolina answered between bites of food. Was her mom committing it all to memory, knowing what was coming?

Church recites the spell one last time.

At the faint thud of the frame landing on the wall, Carolina opens her eyes again. She doesn’t quite dare to look at the new photos. Instead she focuses on Church, who gives her a pleased but also concerned look, like he’s worried she’s going to burst into tears.

She swallows. When she thinks she can keep her voice steady, she says, “Thanks. I love it.”

Church’s smile widens, gets less flustered. He starts to say something, and then the satisfaction leaves his face at the familiar crack of thunder. He grimaces and rolls his eyes. “Happy birthday,” he says, sincere but distracted now. He shifts from one foot to the other. “I’m gonna--” He jerks a thumb towards the door.

“Okay,” Carolina says.

She still can’t bring herself to look up at the framed memories. She’s trying to work herself up to it when Church disappears into the hallway and says flatly, “She’s in her bedroom.”

If her father responds, she doesn’t hear it. A moment later he bumps into the partially open door. Behind him comes an amused laugh, and Grey leans around him to push the door open. She and Kimball are apparently curious to see what present her father got her.

“Hello, Carolina,” her father says. He lingers at the doorway, like he’s not sure he’s allowed inside. Or maybe that he’s not sure he can fit through the entrance. He has two long bulky presents in his arms. “Happy birthday.”

Carolina swallows again, and keeps her voice even. “Hi, Dad.”

When he still doesn’t step inside, Grey shakes her head and pushes at his shoulder. “Just take five steps in and you’ll be fine, Leonard! Carolina believes in the minimalist approach. There aren’t too many things for you to trip over.”

Her father looks slightly annoyed by the shove, but obeys. His blind eyes gaze somewhere slightly to the left of Carolina’s ear as he shifts the presents and says, “Ah, Carolina, if you would--”

Carolina takes the first present from his arms, curious. When she peels away from the wrapping, her curiosity turns to confusion. “A vacuum?” she says, blinking.

“Open the other one,” her father says without elaborating while Grey makes herself at home perching on the edge of Carolina’s desk. Kimball stays by the door, looking a little amused herself at Carolina’s confusion.

The second present is a broom. “Uh,” Carolina says.

His hands free, her father makes an aborted movement towards his face, like he’s going to fiddle with his temporarily unnecessary glasses. “You’re seventeen now. That means you’ll be earning your learner’s permit and all that entails, including getting to learn how to fly. I, ah, bought a traditional broom, but Vanessa and Emily tell me that your peers prefer vacuums, so I decided to err on the side of caution--”

He stops. “Obviously I won’t be able to teach you myself. Perhaps Vanessa will.”

“Ms. Kimball can’t drive,” Carolina says automatically.

“I can’t drive _cars_,” Kimball says. The correction has a distracted quality to it. When Carolina glances at her, Kimball is staring at the new photographs.

“And here’s your handbook!” Grey chirps.

Carolina looks away from Kimball to stare at the book Grey holds out. It’s literally shaped like a hand. Right, she thinks after a baffled second. A _hand_book. Witches have a weird sense of humor. Or at least the witch who designed this. “Seriously?”

Grey laughs. “Now I know it looks a little silly, but--”

Her father interrupts. “It looks ridiculous, if it’s still shaped like a hand. But it’s tradition, and I have been told it would be too confusing if we designed it to look too similar to our spellbooks, so hence the handbook.” He pauses, looking a little annoyed. Then he gives a small shake of his head. “Still, it’s what between the covers that matters.”

“Right,” Carolina says.

He stares in her direction. Maybe he mistakes her lack of enthusiasm for nerves, because the next words out of his mouth are, “You have nothing to worry about, Carolina. Simply focus as I know you can, and you’ll pass the learner’s test easily.”

“Thanks,” Carolina says. She mostly means it. She’s glad that he believes in her, even as she inwardly winces at the expectation of learning more magic. Though maybe if there are more spells like the framed memory one Church did, it won’t be so bad….

She looks at the broom and the vacuum. “And, um, thanks for presents. I’ll do some test flights and figure out which one feels right. Flying sounds fun. Though I wasn’t very good with a broom the one time I tried--” She stops, too late.

“When was this?” Kimball asks, her eyebrows raised.

“Uh,” Carolina says. She glances at her father. She shrugs uncomfortably, not wanting to try and explain why she was flying while grounded in front of him.

Grey gives her a look that promises an awkward conversation later, but says, “A question for another time, I think. It _is_ her birthday! Besides, Leonard needs a slice of cake.” She twirls a finger.

Carolina’s father almost drops the plate and fork when they appear in his hands. There’s faint exasperation in his voice now. “A little warning would be appreciated next time, Emily.”

“I said you needed cake!” Grey’s protest of innocence is ruined by the way she immediately laughs.

Kimball shakes her head. She looks slightly amused as she taps Grey on the arm. “Come on. You have an early shift at the hospital, remember?”

Grey pouts. She doesn’t argue though. just gives one last wave and cheerful, “Happy birthday, Carolina!” before she follows Kimball out the door.

“So,” Carolina’s father says after the door has closed behind them. He frowns down at his cake for a moment, his fork hovering in the air as though he’s debating the likelihood of getting cake all over his face.

Carolina, remembering the purple frosting still on Niner’s cheek as she hopped into her dad’s car, swallows down an unexpected laugh. “Here,” she says, putting her hand on his arm. “Sit down at the desk.”

Her father sits, relaxing a little as he sets the plate down. “Thank you.”

She’s about to say you’re welcome when she’s caught off-guard by his question.

“And how was, ah, your party?”

Carolina blinks at him, and then smiles at his interest. “It was good.” She tells him about her new running shoes, the water bottle, the hair ribbon, the fireworks. She doesn’t mention the framed memories yet. Her throat gets tight just glancing at them.

When she finishes, her father says, “I’m glad you seem to be surrounding yourself with good friends. I can’t meet them without risking questions, clearly." A hint of dryness creeps into his voice and he carefully gestures towards his eyes. “But at the very least I’ll be able to meet your future friends, once Vanessa and Emily set up visits with your witch peers.”

“Oh yeah,” Carolina says. She tries to muster up enthusiasm at the idea of meeting witches her own age.

Her father sets his fork down, directly on top of the handbook.

Carolina winces over the crumbs and frosting coating the book and then decides she’ll fix it later. And look at it later. Maybe tomorrow night. Although she’s busy with school, track, and dinner. Wednesday, then.

“I do have a question,” her father says.

Carolina studies his expression, but she can’t guess what he’s going to ask. “Okay.”

“Could you explain your friends’ names? Surely mortal naming trends haven’t changed _that_ much.” He raises an eyebrow. For a second Carolina thinks he’s being completely serious, but then a faint smile crosses his face, and she remembers that he managed to blend in with the normal world for at least seventeen years. “Niner? _Caboose_?”

Carolina laughs and explains, the handbook slipping from her thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> **Fun trivia fact:** While you'd think getting the cast of _Carolina: The Teenage Witch_ into the Archie comics universe would be easy, or at least easier than trying to work around multiple actors' busy schedules, it took until season three for the Carolina cast to get a cameo in the Sabrina comics. There's a major football game, and when Sabrina shows up to cheer her boyfriend on, a bunch of familiar faces are in the stands too, cheering Caboose on. And some new faces, aka a bunch of Caboose's sisters!


End file.
